The Song
by MBallyntyne
Summary: It is well known that It's A Small World is an annoying song. In fact it is highly thought of as THE most annoying song. The Tracy's however, have another idea...


_Hey people of the world! New story, please read and review. _

_Sorry I can't reply to all of your reviews, 1: I am a notoriously lazy creature of a human being, 2: I may or may not actually kind of know how... So please don't feel unloved! I read all reviews and keep copies of them. It's nice to know my various mutterings on print are appreciated! (Anyone who could PM me a tutorial would be greatly appreciated!)_

_MBallyntyne_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds, I just play with them :)_

It was on a fateful rainy August day that Gordon Tracy fell sick with a high fever. It had been raining for the duration of the week and Gordon, explicitly against his father's orders, had gone swimming one night after everyone had gone to sleep. He had been found in his bedroom two mornings later by a rousy Alan who had been sent to wake him, as it was at least two hours after the normal time the red-head got up. He had been murmuring while still unconscious and Alan, after coming close enough to feel the heat coming off of his brother, had immediately yelled for Virgil. All this ended up with Gordon being dragged down to the infirmary, hot enough to light a match, and the family being worried out of their minds. This was with the exception of Gordon who still hadn't woken up and Jeff Tracy who was on the Mainland for a business meeting and wasn't expected back for two days.

"Is he really going to be okay?" Scott's voice was slightly more high pitched than it normally would have been. The worry tightened his vocal chords. Virgil gave a sigh from where he was standing, adjusting the machine that would read his immediately-younger brother's vitals and alert them when something changed.

"He's going to be fine, Scott," he said through clenched teeth. The limited patience he had was wearing thin. He was worried as well and could completely sympathise with the way Scott was going out of his mind. Only this wasn't the first time the pilot had asked. Scott kept asking every two seconds about how the red-head was fairing and it was driving the stand-in doctor nuts.

Virgil finished calibrating the machine with a huff and it beeped as the screen came to life. He stepped back, jumping slightly as he almost walked into Alan, who had been peering over his shoulder. A movement from the bed caught his eye, distracting the stuck-in-the-headlights Alan from his glare.

"See? He's waking up." All four of the Tracy brothers leaned over the bed. Gordon's hand twitched slightly and his nose wrinkled.

"Hey, Gordo, can you open your eyes for us?"

"Come on, Gordon."

"We know you're awake, Squirt." The last one was accompanied by an amused smirk from John who was the one who had first dubbed Gordon with that name. It had been contagious at the time. John was the one who had figured out what was going on with his younger brother.

"Don't worry," he smiled, much to the bemusement of his brothers. "Dad's not here." A small quirk of Gordon's mouth was the only warning that he'd heard John before the amber eyes flew open. A blink. Another blink. Scott waited anxiously for the prankster to say something.

"Gordo?" he asked, leaning over the young teen to meet his eyes. Gordon's head turned very slowly to look at his brunette-haired brother.

"Yellow." Gordon blinked again and looked away. "It's yellow." Virgil and Scott exchanged glances. Alan looked concerned. John sat back, cogs whirring away in the back of his head.

"What's yellow, Squirt?" Gordon turned to Virgil.

"Everything. Am I in a boat?"

"A boat?"

"Why would you think that?" Both Alan and Scott spoke at the same time, looked at each other, and then turned back to their currently very confused sibling.

"It's moving," Gordon said seriously, eyes wide and innocent. "My bed's moving. Did Virgil hook it up to something?" He asked this question of John, who was the most likely Tracy to give him an straight answer. John barely managed to hide his grin.

"No, you're safe on land in the infirmary." Gordon's bottom lip went out in a pout.

"More safe on water than land," he muttered sulkily, pulling his arms into a crossed position across his chest. "Wanna go in the pool." It was just like Gordon to want to spend all of his free time in the pool, even when he was sick. And even when it was the pool that had gotten him in trouble in the first place. But sickness had always reverted the prankster's mind back to something like a child, and that child wasn't above demanding certain pleasures.

"We know, Squirt, we know. But it's the pool that got you sick in the first place so you'll have to talk to Virge about that one." John ruffled Gordon's hair and stood. "Seeing as you look to be okay, I'm going to go and finish some reports that are needed for Father."

Having dumped Virgil in the deep end for trying to talk their feverish brother out of wanting to go for a swim, he left after giving the brunette a warning glance. Virgil interpreted it as something along the lines of 'Keep me up to date with what's going on or I will be waking you up at ungodly hours of the morning with a bucket of pool water and an electronically altered speaker.' It was unspoken knowledge that the elder blond could be quite violent when he was kept out of the loop, especially when it concerned his brother's wellfare.

There was a swish of the infirmary doors, followed by another and another when both Scott and Alan said goodbye to the red-head lying in the bed and left to finish various jobs. Virgil finished touching up the machinery and, exhaling thankfully to notice that the red-head had now fallen asleep, elected to silently leave the room. Gordon would stay asleep as far as the brunette was concerned, and would hopefully wake up when Virgil wasn't in the room. The middle Tracy didn't like the thought of getting pranked near the medical equipment as compensation for not being allowed near the pool.

* * *

><p>John finished his share of the reports that were needed for Father. Virgil had taken the other half, helping him as it didn't seem that he could do any more good in the infirmary watching Gordon sleep, but had left about 5 minutes ago to check on the prankster with the promise to call up how the red-head was doing. The alarms on the brunette's watch hadn't gone off at all during the long writing session, neither had any of the automated computer alarms which John took as a good sign. Though Virgil still hadn't come back up from the house's infirmary, John decided that his younger brother could handle anything Gordon dished out and went up to his room to read one of his may textbooks on space. He disappeared before he could hear Virgil shouting up the stairs for Scott.<p>

* * *

><p>"We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine! We all live – "<p>

"Scott, what are we going to do about him?" Scott wasn't able to answer, as at that moment John came racing down the stairs.

"What's going on?" He demanded frantically. "I can hear wailing all the way up in my room!" Virgil smirked.

"That wailing...it's Gordon," he said dryly. "He's singing." The Tracy men hushed and listened, ears not even needing to be pressed to the door to hear the dreadful cat-like yowling coming from the inside.

"We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine! We all live in a yellow – "

John raised an eyebrow.

"'Yellow,'" he said nodding. "And the moving bed. Who would have guessed." Virgil sighed grumpily.

"None of us did," he snapped. "Until it was too late. Give me another minute or two back when he was still muttering and I could've put a stop to all of this _before_ we all went deaf." Scott grinned.

"Don't worry about him," he stage-whispered to the blond. "He's cranky 'cuz Gordo cheated his machines. They didn't go off when he woke up." Virgil huffed sulkily. John stared at him blankly.

"Why don't we just open the door and tell him to stop?" But even he hesitated, glancing at Scott for reassurance when an evil smile spread itself over his brother's face.

"Go ahead," suggested Virgil angelically. Again the blond Tracy hesitated but, seeing nothing that could possibly be wrong with the door, placed a hand on the button that would open it. Immediately there was a knifing pain through his right forearm making him yelp and jerk his fingers away. Craddling his now lobster red fingers in his other, healthier hand, he turned to his younger brother.

"You knew that would happen," he snapped accusingly, advancing on the brunette. The only answer was a snicker and an amused glance at his hair from Scott. Reluctantly he felt around his head and ended up smiling slightly as well. His hair, which was usually flat on his head, now stuck up like he had stuck his finger in an electical socket. Which he kind of had. Virgil's hair was sticking up as well, John noticed ruefully. Even more ruefully was when he remembered that he'd seen that before he'd touched the door but ignored it in favour of trying to stop the screeching.

"It gives you a shock but not more than a cattle fence would," reassured Scott, ever the elder brother. "Though the hair is a nice side-effect."

"_We all live in a yellow submarine, yellow submarine, yellow submarine!_"

It was getting louder and it was at this moment that, quite unfortunately for the Tracy family, they all keyed into the fact that Gordon only knew the chorus to the song.

"Oh dear God, someone save me," John rolled his eyes to the heavens. Or at least the ceiling. "Only Gordon. Only Gordon could annoy the hell out of us while burning up with a fever." He turned back to the stairs leading to the Tracy patriarch's office. "I'm gonna see what I can do about this door," he called back over his shoulder, already disappearing.

Gordon, meanwhile, was going beserk.

"WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE – "

"GORDON, SHUT UP!" Scott finally snapped.

There was a silence. Virgil and Scott looked at each other. There was no relief in their gaze, only suspicion.

"Gordon can't have stopped, it's barely been twenty minutes." Only twenty seconds later was Virgil proven correct. A horrific noise came from up above and, as both men's eyes shot upwards, Scott realised what had happened.

"He's rigged the speaker system!" Those five simple words brought terror into the hearts of the two Tracy's. Virgil cast a horrified look at Scott.

"Oh, you have _got _to be joking," he said, already starting to sprint up to Jeff Tracy's office where John was bent over their father's computer system, Alan leaning over his shoulder but staying silent. The elder blond was frantically pounding away on the keys trying to find a way to get into the audio speakers that his younger brother had managed to hack into. Suddenly he sat back in the chair, flummoxed.

"He locked me," he said incredulous. "He's locked me out of the whole system!" Scott thumped the desk with a heartfelt "Damn!" and turned to his younger brother.

"What do we do now?" John opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the blaring noise of the intruder alarm going off. The four Tracy's started anxiously, hands darting to their ears and automatically looking towards the weapons cupboard; but after listening for a second all jaws fell open. Gordon had somehow managed to hack into the alarm system as well. It was starting and stopping to the tune of the Yellow Submarine song.

"SOMEBODY SHOOT HIM!" Yelled Virgil, hands plastered over his ears. John whimpered, his hands in exactly the same position only doubled over from the middle as well in a futile attempt to block the sound.

"SOMEBODY SHOOT _ME_!"

"WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE – "

"BOTH OF YOU MAN UP!" Scott also stood covering his ears firmly. "VIRGIL, DO YOU STILL HAVE THAT TRANQUILLISER GUN UNDER YOUR BED?" Virgil nodded, eyes screwed shut. The gun had been needed on several occasions for various widelife on the island that had crawled into his bedroom. For some reason they always went straight to his room, not to anyone elses and it was a subject of constant annoyance for the middle Tracy. It seemed that the gun was going to come in handy again, though this time for more than just sedating a dinner-plate sized spider crawling across his dresser.

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" Screamed the oldest Tracy son. "GO GET IT!" Virgil made a face at him but ran for his room nonetheless. Scott had been using his Field Commander voice. As he sprinted headlong up the stairs in a awkward gait, hands still firmly placed over his hearing organs, he felt a sinking feeling as he realised that the higher you went in the house, the louder the noise got.

"WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW SUBMARINE – "

Alarm blaring on and off. Gordon singing tunelessly. The speaker system buzzing with the red-head's voice. Same lyrics over and over and over and over again. Virgil, the musician of the household, didn't know how much more he could take.

"Please, somebody," he whispered, unheard to anyone that could have been near due to the racket coming from the little black dots placed periodically around the hallways. "Please, just send me to Disney Land, I'll take the Small World ride as much as you want, just get me out of here!"

Finally, after what felt like an uphill battle pushing a tank, he skidded to his door on the wooden floor, pushed his way in with his elbows, got on his knees, grabbed the gun out from under his bed, and got the hell out of there!

"SCOTT! SCOTT, I'VE GOT IT!" Scott didn't even turn. His hands were no longer by his ears, instead excitedly outlining a plan to John, who also had his hands away from his ears, only in his case they were crossed over his chest, eyes doubtful. Virgil barged his way between them.

"SCOTT!" He yelled. Scott indicated something then rolled his eyes as he noticed the incomprehension written all over his fellow brunette brother's face.

'Alan got us some ear plugs,' he signed to Virgil. Virgil's eyes widened.

'Where is Alan?' he mouthed, seeing as his hands were otherwise occupied. Scott signed something that looked like 'He's outside waving at squash.' An eyebrow went up. Virgil was different to the two older Tracy men when it came to sign language. He wasn't worse, not at all, in fact he was better, and their clumsy attempts were confusing him.

'Squash?' thought Virgil. 'Squash...Squish... Squirt – Gordon!" He sighed exasperatedly at Scott's fail attempt and beconned with an elbow.

'Give me earplugs,' he mouthed. Scott handed them over easily, wincing in sympathy when Virgil realised that he had to take his hands away from his ears to put them in. It was quick.

" – IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE, YELLOW – "

Blissful quiet. Virgil's shoulder's untensed slightly and a small smile quirked at the corners of his mouth.

'Do you think he actually believes he's in a submarine?' signed Virgil to the elder two Tracy's. There was no hesitation when they both looked at each other and nodded their heads.

'We threatened him with draining the pool,' signed John.

'No pause or response or pause,' signed Scott.

'You signed that twice,' signed Virgil, sighing. Scott rolled his eyes.

'Okay. Let's do this.'

* * *

><p>Alan had been skulking around the windows that joined to the infirmary, waving at his red-head brother when the prankster turned towards the movements. There was no response from Gordon except to sing louder. He was sitting comfortably in a wheely chair usually used by Virgil beside a desk and holding a microphone to his mouth. His eyes were slightly unfocused and his head had beads of sweat running down it.<p>

'It must've taken a lot of effort to pull himself out of that bed,' thought Alan to himself. He could see Scott now on the other side of the door into the infirmary. He had plastic dishwashing gloves on, a surprise to the youngest Tracy who had never seen them in his life. Okay, maybe he had. That prank last summer with the electric doorknob had been just like this one, only pulled by him instead. Alan might not be as good as his brothers at things at school but when it came to things like this, he was an expert, second-best only to his immediately older brother. Who was now getting shot by Virgil with a tranquilliser gun. Alan clucked his tongue in sympathy and raced inside to help his elder brothers lift the prankster back into the bed.

* * *

><p>"Gordon?"<p>

"Gordo, you awake?" Gordon Tracy opened his eyes. And looked down at himself. Restraints held his wrists and upper arms in place as well as his ankles. They were tight, but not so tight that they were cutting off blood circulation. However they were able to easily induce panic into the Tracy-who-didn't-like-being-restrained. He sent a frantic glance up to Virgil who was standing above him looking at the machine.

"Well, your temperature's gone down," he smiled, finally looking at the red-head lying on the bed. "So I guess we can take those restraints off." He leaned over and unclipped his side, another of his brothers undoing the other. Gordon turned his head. Scott was sitting in a chair on his right and John was standing behind him. Alan stood, perched at the end of Gordon's bed.

"Good to see your eyes open," he grinned cheekily. Gordon blinked at him blankly.

"Wha– " All the Tracy's froze in surprise. Gordon put his now released hand to his throat. There was nothing coming out but a sigh. He tried again.

"Where– " Again, nothing came out. It wasn't that Gordon was thirsty, in fact quite the opposite; he felt like he'd drunk a whole swimming pool. This was something different. He'd experienced this once before when he'd talked non-stop the whole day and woken up with no voice. But...he hadn't talked at all this time...had he? Gordon didn't remember anything except a vague flickering of something yellow.

Finally Scott laughed.

"Oh God, he's lost his voice!"

'There is much too much pleasure in that tone,' thought Gordon as he listened to the delighted laughter of the other three Tracy's.

* * *

><p>Virgil, John and Scott had come together while Gordon had been out and created a ban on the whole business. Singing, humming or just generally tapping The Song out on a hard surface resulted in 3 days or more work on a Thunderbird, a different one each time. This punishment was most likely going to result in squabbles between the trio but they decided that they would deal with that when they came to it. Even mention of the incident, The Song, the name of The Song or the two words in the title of The Song put together in the same sentence proceeded to take an evening of the offenders week and have them waste their time using Scott's rubber gloves to wash dishes.<p>

Alan, of course, had protested when he heard this plan as he found himself always mentioning it within hearing of at least one of the three eldest Tracy's. He ended up muttering darkly more than one evening about 'How they had a bloody dishwasher and why couldn't they bloody well use it?' His mouth had often been the same soapyness as the dishes after these occasions as Scott had an unfortunate habit of walking in at the wrong time. But it didn't finish there.

Alan hadn't been as affected as the elder Tracy's in the whole submarine business and rather thought it was quite amusing instead. This was why he also ended up washing and repairing TB2 for the remainder of the holiday after pointing out to Jeff Tracy, who had come back from his business meeting to find four very deaf sons, that Virgil playing it on his piano hadn't really been banned by the three eldest.

In fact, in a moment of absentmindedness, he actually tried to cajole Virgil into playing the song, forgetting of course that Virgil had been one third of the three parties that had made the rule in the first place. Virgil had come straight to their Father who, while he found the whole situation highly entertaining, did agree with the elder Tracy's rule, therefore sentencing Alan to working on Virgil's 'bird until Virgil deemed fit to release him. Which could take a while.

John never could find out how Gordon managed to lock him out of the house system but found his younger brother going through his password files one day on his computer in his room. Later in the day, after Gordon had provided his excuses and accepted his punishment for intruding and playing with his elder brother's stuff, John could hear the Small World song faintly playing during dinner.

Alan kept his eyes very firmly fixed on his plate, determined not to meet Gordon's eyes, but John could see the small high five they gave each other under the table. Alan as revenge for his multiple punishments, Gordon for...since when had Gordon ever needed a reason? The Terrible Two had struck again.


End file.
